


In Empty Spaces

by PeachesandBones



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Codependent!Bones, M/M, Manipulative!Jim, Post-Five Year Mission, Pre-ST:TMP, angsty OT3 dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachesandBones/pseuds/PeachesandBones
Summary: A man can stand anything except a succession of ordinary days.~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 
Set between the end of the Five Year Mission and before Star Trek: The Motion Picture.
Bones and Spock are moving on with their lives. Jim can't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I watched 'The Motion Picture' and thought that it looked like some serious shit had gone down between Bones and Jim between the end of the series and when they meet again. This is my version of events.
> 
> Just to clarify, in this fic Jim and Bones have a 'no strings attached, FWB' situation going on.

The road to Jim’s personal hell started with an offer of promotion.

Admiral Nogura had personally reached out to Jim as The Enterprise had begun its journey back to earth. He had blathered on about the captain’s ingenuity, impressive record, and all the other pablum Jim was used to hearing about himself. He had waited patiently for the admiral to get to the true reason for his call.

Not unexpectedly, Nogura offered him a promotion to rear admiral. A position which would place him behind a desk with mountains of paperwork, feet permanently glued to earth, dealing with all the political malfeasance that Jim didn’t have the stomach or patience for. 

Had Starfleet even _looked_ at his psychological profile?

Jim had smiled politely and condescendingly, letting Nogura know he would think about it.

 

“So, do you think we’ll get to keep _The Enterprise_?” Jim asked, moving his pawn forward two spaces as the second round of chess began.

“I am unsure of where Starfleet would have you next, captain, but I am sure wherever it is you will continue to perform your duties admirably.” The Vulcan replied as his elegant green fingers moved a bishop onto the upper deck of the board. Jim paused.

“What do you mean ‘you’? I’m sure that they wouldn’t split us up onto different ships. Starfleet likes to keep functional crews together as much as possible.” He moved again without seeing it, the cogs in his brain inexplicably silent and unmoving. Spock raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“I am resigning my commission with Starfleet.” He said simply, taking Jim's pawn. For a moment, Jim just stared, meeting Spock’s calm, unmovable gaze with a look of disbelief.

“But Spock,” He inhaled deeply, as if to breathe air into the space his stomach had dropped from. “You’re the best first officer in the fleet. What possible reason could you have to leave?”

“I have matters to attend to on Vulcan.” Spock’s impassive eyes burned holes in Jim's heart. “Our five year mission has proved quite enlightening to me in ways I had not foreseen, and I have come to the conclusion that the most logical thing to do would be to return to my home planet.”

“What can Vulcan offer you that Starfleet can’t?” It came out as the petulant whine of a child, but Jim couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“It is a personal matter, captain.”

“I see.” Jim lied bitterly, and felt both his hands clench unconsciously.

“Captain?” Spock asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I have some reports I need to get into Starfleet before the night is over.” He stood up abruptly, and instantly felt so light headed that he had to brace both arms on the table for support. Spock stood as well, hands hovering as if unsure of themselves.

“Captain, are you alright? Should I escort you to sickbay?”

“No. I can make it there on my own.” Jim snapped. He felt the concerned stares of the other crewmembers in the rec room upon him, and had to shut his eyes to contain his anger.

 

Doctor McCoy had him lay down on the biobed and ran a tricorder over the captain with an outstretched hand, Jim's chart clutched in his other arm.

“You’re a bit on the hypotensive side.” He murmured. “Feeling nauseous at all?”

“A little.” Jim admitted, watching Leonard jot down some figures.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast.” Bones sighed.

“I’m sure you haven’t been sleeping well either. I know you’ve got a lot goin’ on with the end of the mission - we all do - but that doesn’t mean that you can completely stop lookin' after yourself, Jim.” Setting down his papers he pierced his captain with a familiar stern look of concern, the bags under his eyes betraying his own exhaustion. “You’ll be amazed at what a full belly and a good night’s rest can do for a man. Do you need anything to help you get to sleep?”

“Bones.” Jim caught the doctor’s wrist, and Leonard looked down, eyes widening with surprise, but made no attempt to dislodge the hand. “You’re signing up for another mission, right?” His heart sank as his CMO froze, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Well Jim, to be honest,” He rocked back and forth on his feet slightly, something that was usually endearing, but in this instance only made Jim grip his wrist harder. “I’m plannin’ on settling down earth side again. Gettin' a little stability in my life.” Jim sat up, heart pounding in his chest, and Leonard eyed his vital signs as they rose.

“What do you mean ‘settle down’?” He demanded, sitting up and pulling the brunet between his legs. “ _The Enterprise_ is home. You have the ship, the stars, the crew, your job. You have _me_.” Jim punctuated the last word by gripping Leonard’s wrist harder, and the doctor winced, then scowled as he shook his hand loose and put a few steps of distance between then.

“Look, Jim, the mission has been great. I’ve been pushed past limits I didn’t think I could survive, done things I never thought I could do. And what we’ve had has been great. But I’m older than you. And after a while a man stops enjoying cheating death at all opportunities, quickies at lunch aren’t what they used to be, and he just wants a home that stays in one place.” Jim searched his gaze for some weakness, some sign of insincerity, but as always Leonard’s will was simple and unmovable. 

“What would it take to make you stay?” Jim demanded. Bones sighed and turned away, busying himself with the paperwork he had set down before.

“There is no price, Jim. And we are not discussing this any more.”

 

Jim spent 13 days attempting to woo Spock and Bones onto a second mission. He wrote incredibly glowing reviews of their service to Starfleet and recommended they receive retention bonuses to secure their willingness for a second mission. He then hounded every admiral he had ever been in touch with, turning in favours and creating new debts to get it accomplished. When he unofficially let them both know that that their their bonuses had been approved (a lie he was sure would become reality) he met with refusal on both fronts.

“I have no need of financial incentives, Captain.” Spock told him.

“This isn’t about money, Jim.” Bones stated more succinctly. 

He told Spock he would bring aboard more non-Terrans to replace crewmates, told Bones he would get the most up-to-date medical equipment for sickbay, and their responses didn’t change. He offered a full Vulcanized menu for the replicator, larger quarters for the CMO on the redesign of the ship, and once again neither of his friends would budge. He ran back and forth between them, offering everything he knew he could promise and everything that he couldn’t, until there were no more heavenly bodies to move, no more budgets to blow, no more desires he could capitalize on. When his mind had become zen with exhaustion and for once the future was a black slate with no stars, he knew that he had failed his final mission.

On Day 14 he set up a private communication channel with Admiral Nogura and accepted his promotion.

 

A few days before The Enterprise was set to dock on Earth, Jim let himself into Doctor McCoy’s quarters with his override. His friend sat at his computer, surrounded by paper and data chips, no doubt finishing his final report on the five year mission. Bones raised an irritated eyebrow but kept his eyes obstinately on his screen and said nothing as Jim sat on the edge of his bed. It was a frostier welcome than the captain was used to, but tensions had been running higher between them with Jim’s cajoling and Leonard’s refusal to budge. It wasn’t unexpected, nor unfixable. Jim ran a hand through his sandy hair, squeezing the locks for a second before releasing them.

“I’m going to be an admiral, Bones.” He said quietly, without pride. McCoy snorted, turning his head.

“Jim, you’re gonna make yourself, and every other person in San Francisco, absolutely miserable. You can’t handle a desk job.”

“Where else am I supposed to go?” He snapped back. 

“On a second mission, obviously.” Bones retorted.

“Without you or Spock?”

“Yes, without me or Spock.” Leonard growled. “Don’t try to pin your misery on us. Just because you can’t have something exactly the way you want it doesn’t mean you throw the baby out with the bathwater!”

“What’s the point of being the best captain in space if I don’t have the best commanding officers to go with it?” Jim argued. “The ship is nothing without a crew.”

“Jim, I’m pretty tired of this. If you want to live the rest of your life having a pity party behind your desk, have at ‘er.” Bones was obviously irritated, but he had stopped looking at the computer and sat sideways on his chair, legs crossed and foot tapping, giving the captain his full attention.

“Bones, where are you going when we get back?” He asked. Leonard’s shoulders softened, but he still eyed Jim suspiciously, cocking his head to the left as he shrugged.

“I’m not sure.” He admitted. “There’s a xenohospital opening up in Boston that I thought about applying at. Or maybe just doing emergency medicine somewhere.”

“You’re not going back to Georgia?” Jim asked. McCoy shook his head.

“There’s nothing there for me.” He drawled, with a hint of sadness that Kirk couldn’t focus on at that moment.

“Stay with me in San Francisco.” Bones stiffened, then winced and groaned.

“Jim…”

“If there’s nothing for you in Georgia, the entire world is awaiting you in San Francisco.” Kirk interjected, words rolling like waves to drown out any objections. “All of the cutting edge work being done in the xeno disciplines is centred in San Francisco. If you want emergency medicine, that’s obviously there too. You could teach at the academy. We could get an apartment together.” Bones closed his eyes and rubbed his left one with the heel of his hand, as if a migraine was coming on.

“Jim…” he tried again, but the captain kept steamrolling over his words and thoughts.

“Think about it, Bones. San Francisco could be our next great adventure. I know you’re a southern belle at heart, but Starfleet needs doctors like you, who know what they’re doing. Besides, you don’t get a full pension until you’ve done 50 years of service, and you’re at what, something like 15? Since all the xeno hospitals are operated by Starfleet that means-”

“ _Jim_.” His name cut like a blade and Kirk shut his mouth and blinked in surprise as McCoy rubbed the side of his face hopelessly. “I meant it. I need to move on. I can’t trail you around like some sort of lost space puppy for the next 35 years. I just need some space. I need a home to return to every night, I need to settle down with someone that doesn’t go galavanting off to get themselves killed at every chance, I need to eat food that isn’t replicated.”

“But Bones.” Jim replied, fixing his CMO with a low, sincere gaze. “I need you.” His blue eyes widen in surprise, tinged with fear and weariness and he threw up his hands helplessly.

“Jim, please don’t ask me for this.” He pleaded. “Just… don’t.” If he had been a better man, Jim would have backed down. He would have heard the distressed pitch in Leonard’s voice, seen the helpless tension that ran through his lithe frame. He would have apologised for being selfish, wished him luck wherever he went, and walked out of the doctor’s quarters. Instead, he saw the breaking point, and pushed.

“Bones…”


End file.
